


but this is our ungodly hour

by youfancymemad



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Marauders' Era, after the full moon, it's like angsty fluff i don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3690702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youfancymemad/pseuds/youfancymemad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Always the trepidation, always the caution, so palpable that Sirius felt it would almost be easier to drown in than the freshly-filled pool beside them. He looked at Remus, ignored the violent shiver that shot down his spine. So many times they’d seen each others’ naked bodies, pulled each other out of the extraneous uniforms that always got in the way, but it was always different after a full moon. Their smiles shook, but not nearly as hard as their hands. Sirius took a step forward, hesitated, took another. He brushed his fingertips across Remus’ hollow cheek, pure alabaster underneath the moonlight, careful not to aggravate a freshly-blossoming bruise right below his eye.</p><p>“How can something that is so cruel to you make you look so beautiful?” he whispered into Remus’ neck. He felt Remus’ chest contract sharply, a breathy, bitter laugh tumbling from his lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but this is our ungodly hour

**Author's Note:**

> this is for trishna!!!

The first few times, Sirius had to stop himself from staring at the moon with an intricate mix of horror and awe. That something so beautiful could hang itself in the sky, so serene, and create so much wreckage down below. It was a story he could never quite commit to. Eventually, he learned to ignore it, for he knew better than anyone that things that come from the sky hardly ever work the way they should.

The routine constructed itself fairly easily, considering. Four disheveled boys, exhausted to the bone and in need of something so much more than sleep, would limp back quietly to the looming castle, slipping in and out of the shadows with a practiced grace. James and Peter, eyelids drooping, would ruffle Remus’ hair or sling a quick arm around Sirius’ shoulders, and then disappear through the portrait hole with a desperate longing for the comfort of their beds upstairs.

It always took a while for the life to appear back in Remus’ face. Sirius had to stop himself from shivering, from looking away. It was as if he could see right through him, Remus’ pale, bruised flesh blending in with the yellowed walls of the castle. Some nights he’d need a little help getting to the Prefects’ bathroom, arm reluctantly draped behind Sirius’ neck. Other nights he drifted there so silently that Sirius had to remind himself that he was not watching a dead man.

“Coming, Pads?” Remus whispered, some distant memory of a smirk twitching across his lips. Sirius shook his head quick and wild, Padfoot’s mannerisms still at the forefront of his mind. 

“‘Course,” he said easily, reaching for Remus’ hand, which was trembling. Neither of them mentioned it as they walked through the door.

They worked their way around the gigantic bath, flipping the taps and watching the water begin to fill up. Steam floated gently across their skin, but it wasn’t enough to settle their goosebumps. 

Always the trepidation, always the caution, so palpable that Sirius felt it would almost be easier to drown in than the freshly-filled pool beside them. He looked at Remus, ignored the violent shiver that shot down his spine. So many times they’d seen each others’ naked bodies, pulled each other out of the extraneous uniforms that always got in the way, but it was always different after a full moon. Their smiles shook, but not nearly as hard as their hands. Sirius took a step forward, hesitated, took another. He brushed his fingertips across Remus’ hollow cheek, pure alabaster underneath the moonlight, careful not to aggravate a freshly-blossoming bruise right below his eye.

“How can something that is so cruel to you make you look so beautiful?” he whispered into Remus’ neck. He felt Remus’ chest contract sharply, a breathy, bitter laugh tumbling from his lips. 

“You are,” he said sharply, stopping Remus’ inevitable argument before he had a chance to speak it, “beautiful. I mean, Christ, look at you.” But Remus didn’t remove his eyes from Sirius.

It was chilling, the way Remus could keep eye contact. Chilling and so unexpected from someone who took such care to come off as quiet, shy, unassuming. And yet he hardly blinked as he began to undress, only breaking to pull the soft, oversized sweater over his head. Sirius shivered once more, stopped himself from licking his lips. He quickly removed his own clothes, the cold air enveloping him completely.

“What do you say, Moony,” he said quietly, sly smile not at all threatening, “shall we get in?” Instead of answering, Remus slowly began to lower himself into the bath, hissing at the intense heat of the water. Sirius followed, breathing through the temperature shock as he waited for his skin to get used to the heat. Lazily they waded toward one another, stopping just shy of contact.

This time it was Remus who bridged the gap, ghosting a kiss across the curve of Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius tried to suppress gasp, but couldn’t, and Remus’ lips quirked again into that too-familiar ghost of a smirk.

“C’mere,” Remus said in a low voice, and beyond the fatigue there was hunger, there was want. He lifted his head to meet Sirius’ and kissed him fully on the mouth, damp and warm from the steam surrounding them. They sunk deeper into the pool, submerging themselves entirely from the neck down. The bottom of Sirius’ hair was dipping into the water, and Remus fondly swept it behind Sirius’ ears, letting his fingertips linger.

The colorful soaps had started to pour into the bath, reds and blues and yellows bleeding together under the surface. Bubbles began to form, light and thick. Sirius scooped up a handful and placed it gently on Remus’ head, stifling a laugh. Remus just continued to stare at him, the shadows in his gaunt face becoming more pronounced the longer Sirius looked. He brought himself back to the present, to reality, remembering what their night had just consisted of. There was a broken boy floating before him, and damned if he wasn’t going to do all he could to try and fix him.

He scooped another handful of suds, this time without a trace of humor. He pulled Remus against the wall of the bath and turned him around so that he was positioned between Sirius’ legs with his back turned. Sirius pushed Remus’ shoulders down a tad and propped himself up as high as he could, trying to compensate for the fact that Remus was a few inches taller, and began to rub the soap tenderly into Remus’ hair.

Remus leaned his head into Sirius’ chest and closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. The ever-present crease in his forehead remained, however, and Sirius had to actively stop himself from trying to rub it out with his thumb. He allowed himself time to gaze fully at Remus while his eyes were shut, and wondered if Remus could feel the definite spike in his heartbeat. The moonlight was still shining lovingly on Remus’ face, and it made Sirius’ stomach twist. What an evil, evil, thing, to make him look like this after spending a night torturing him.

Remus began to hum gently, face still slightly contorted as if in distress, and Sirius simply shook his head. He couldn’t imagine what it was to be Remus Lupin, somehow able to find contentment among the brokenness, the anger. He was so strong, this boy, and it made Sirius’ heart feel as though it would burst through his ribcage.

Remus started to shift, allowing Sirius access to the rest of his body, and Sirius obliged, lathering his scarred skin with soapy hands. He placed careful kisses along the way, on the side of Remus’ neck and on the point of his shoulder, in the dip of his collarbone and on the very center of his chest, lingering there to feel his breath and heartbeat. So often he needed to double check that Remus was, in fact, still alive and not just an apparition floating along beside him.

A few months prior, Peter had jokingly asked what they did when they went to the Prefects’ bathroom after the full moon. “Do you just get in and shag until you’re too tired to do it anymore?” he’d giggled, red-faced, until James had jabbed him in the gut with an elbow.

But how could they, Sirius thought, after the night they’d had? This was not just any night, where two boys who couldn’t keep themselves off one another came to play in a luxurious bath. This was healing, this was redemption. This was coming back to themselves and their bodies, taking off their monster suits and becoming people again. For it wasn’t just Remus who became feral on full moon nights, not anymore. If Remus had been in his right mind, he would’ve warned against it, but Sirius had learned to let himself go completely, bounding through the Forbidden Forest with a wolf and a powerful stag at his sides, a mouse discreetly scurrying along behind them. 

For James and Peter, it was fun, it was release. It was support for Remus, who had improved so dramatically since his friends’ transformations had become complete and successful. For Sirius, it was so much more. It was a chance to take the dark things twisting inside him, slicing at his insides, and expel them out into the world, taking their terrible, poisonous sting with them.

So they kept it chaste, an unspoken yet naturally agreed-upon decision, and they let the scalding water soothe their tired, wrecked skin. Once Sirius had scrubbed Remus’ body completely he quickly went to work on his own, letting Remus settle in the water, head resting on the edge of the bath. By the time he finished, Remus had dozed off, breathing slow and steady, floating slightly higher with each inhale and sinking with every exhale. Sirius couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerized completely by the slow bobbing, the way Remus’ eyelids fluttered. He longed so desperately to remove the crease from his eyebrows, idly wondered if there was a spell he could find that would get the job done.

He couldn’t sleep, not when there was a small chance of someone walking into the bathroom and catching them. He’d foolishly forgotten to get the map from James before sending him off to bed, so he just had to hope they were safe. He would wake Remus soon, he assured himself, but for now there was no harm in letting him rest, cradled by the warm water and the generous moonlight, so traitorously magnificent as it fell upon his delicate face.


End file.
